


Deep Cover

by Atalto



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Angst, Blade member Lance, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I love that tag, Kolivance 2018, M/M, Red Paladin Kolivan, Role Swap AU, the holy trinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 21:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atalto/pseuds/Atalto
Summary: After a slew of deeply draining diplomatic missions, Team Voltron get a call from a familiar Blade member, and Kolivan prepares to reduce stress via new state of the art training facilities.As in keeping with Lance, nothing ever goes to plan.





	Deep Cover

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> This is my entry for the first day of the Kolivan weekend 2018!   
> The prompt was ‘dancing with canon’, so I went with a role swap au where Kolivan is a paladin and Lance is a high-ranking Blade member.
> 
> Thank y’all, and I hope this is okay!
> 
> Enjoy!

If Kolivan has to sit through one more diplomatic meal, he is going to scream.

This has easily got to be the third one this week, another small planet running to Voltron to plead protection after the Empire strayed too close to their solar system. He knows he's not the only one getting annoyed by this; Krolia has been unusually snappy for the past three days, and Shiro's eye won't stop twitching. He would have blamed it on weird human reactions to stress, but Ulaz does the same; maybe it's something they gained off each other, he's not sure, but it exists.

Antok is annoyingly chipper, as quiznaking usual.

"Do you think they're done?" He hears Ulaz ask as he eases himself into the Red Paladin's chair - these Altean relics weren't made for someone of his height - and Krolia huffs as the rest of the Paladins follow suit.

"I hope so," the blue paladin replies wearily, "we've had to forgo training ever since, and I fear I'm getting rusty." She practically spits the words, and behind him, he sees Shiro cringe.

Their human black paladin has yet to get his head around their 'agressiveness.'

"I'm sure everything will be fine," he murmurs, resting his head in his metal hand, "at least no one's getting hurt."

Kolivan closes his eyes for one second, and-

The hailing tone echoes around the bridge, and a collective sigh of exasperation meets his ears.

"Shiro," Prince Lotor urges, and Shiro shuffles upright in his seat, "answering call now."

The team tenses, in preparation for another grovelling planet that doesn't really need any help. Behind him, he bears Shiro breathe deeply, obviously preparing himself for the talk that had become familiar.

"Greetings," he starts, phrase still sounding awkward as it tiredly tumbles from his lips, "this is Voltron, and-"

 _"Great, great, I know Shiro, you don't have to do the talk again,"_ comes the reply, and Kolivan feels a gentle relief course through his veins, _"how is everyone doing?"_

The screen sizzles and flashes, grainy feed fighting through its own encryption to project a picture of a friendly half-Altean, lowering his familiar Blade mask to reveal striking blue eyes and a smirk that sets Kolivan's heart on fire every time he sees it.

He looks exhausted.

"Lance," Shiro answers, finally relaxing back into his seat as a smile appears on his face, "what can we do for you?"

Lance hums in fake thought, stroking his chin dramatically. _"Actually, nothing much,"_ he says with an awkward smile, _"Keith and Hunk have just installed some new training shiz, they wanna' know if you guys want to come over and test it with them."_

Immediately, the team seems to visibly brighten up; even Kolivan feels a smile grow on his face. The Blade always has excellent resources, and their human-centric fighting style is always a pleasure to fight against. They aren't quite as perfectionist as the alteans, not as precise in their strikes, but they are scrappy, less berserk and more unpredictable strikes than their familiar Galra style.

Lance, Kolivan thinks, is the scrappiest of them all. The marksman was reckless, proud and self-confident, and had skill to match. He'd seen Lance train with Krolia sometimes, the two locked in a deadly battle of lasers and bayard fire.

Sometimes he wishes he was better with a blaster than he is. But Lance always considers him his first choice for close combat, something Kolivan secretly prides himself on.

"I believe we'll see you there," Shiro answers, and Lance's face explodes into a grin.

 _"Awesome!"_ He cheers, grinning so widely he had to squint before settling back on the group, _"I'll see you later then!"_

Kolivan tries to ignore how Lance's eyes, blue and beautifully stormy over the video feed, are trained on him.

* * *

 

"So, a good training room, eh?"

Kolivan glances up from the control panel at the voice suddenly entering the room, and the data gladiator dissolves away as he spins to see Lance standing before him. There's a tick of silence, just as the doors slide shut behind him, and the next thing Kolivan knows, Lance has lithe arms wrapped around his waist and a face in the his chest despite the thick paladin armour.

"I missed you," he murmurs, voice muffled and thick with emotion, and Kolivan can do little but return the embrace tightly. It's always humourous, how such a strong, renowned warrior fits so compactly into his arms and against his body, but it's perfect in its own unique way.

"And I you," he replies gently, ducking his head down to Lance's height and resting his forehead against the crown of Lance's head, "how have you been?"

Lance shrugs in his arms, pulling away slightly to look up at him fully. "It's been a tough couple of months," he explains, and there's a hint of exhaustion in his voice that Kolivan flies away to discuss later, "Keith and Allura have been all about nipping supply lines in the bud recently, and like, I understand why? But we need rest days every now and then!"

He groans, and Kolivan swirls gentle circles on his back sympathetically. "Look, my skin is suffering-"

"You look beautiful as ever, starlight," Kolivan admits, hoping it sounds as honest as he was being.

Promptly, Lance's face lights up, moving through shocked to a blushing acceptance as an already warm complexion flushed with an embarrassed heat. "You're only saying that," he grumbles, and Kolivan lifts one hand to cup his head gently.

"I thought that Galrans didn't lie," he muses, recalling an in joke of theirs as he slides a gloved thumb over Lance's cheek, "I assure you, I do mean every word."

Lance, if possible, blushes even further, and nuzzles into the palm of his hand in some vague attempt to hide his face. "Stop it," he whines, "you're gonna' destroy my face and my heart at this rate."

In response, Kolivan runs his free hand through lance's hair, letting rough claws lightly trail through kathranut hair as Lance moves one calloused hand to wrap around his wrist. "I would never want you destroyed," he admits honestly, pulling Lance close once again with a gentle tug, "after all, we have to win this war first."

Lance hums at that, laying his head sideways on Kolivan's chest. "Yeah," he says, voice suddenly distant, "only a few more pushes."

There's a sadness in that, and Kolivan knows why; progress has been slow recently, hence Keith's focus on supply lines. It feels like they're the only targets they could strike at times, short of the empire's heart, which would require taking on the Empress and was basically out of the question.

Sometimes, it feels like winning this war is another one thousand years away.

Lance seems to sense his pensiveness, moving to wrap his arms around Kolivan's middle and rub thumbs in gentle circles through undersuit and fur. "It'll be alright," he urges, and Kolivan looks down at the Blade in his arms, "we're getting further everyday, hopefully it won't last much longer."

"You're optimistic today, starlight," Kolivan replies, and Lance hums in his arms, "no, it's good, motivation is important in war."

Lance hums again - seems he's not feeling too verbal today - pulling away from Kolivan to take his hand and walk to the control panel of the room. "How long do you have until Shiro wants you back?"

"I don't know," he admits honestly - Shiro's probably enjoying the respite to catch up with Keith, and will probably take some time later with Ulaz, since none of them have really had private time recently - so at this point it's anyone's guess, "what did you have in mind?"

Lance, almost immediately, pulls out two gladiator staffs from a panel in the wall, and hands one to Kolivan with a playful, yet slightly forced grin on his face. "I wanna' learn," he explains as Kolivan weighs the staff in his hands, "up for a spar?"

Kolivan raises an eyebrow; it's an unusual weapon for Lance to want to work with, no doubt influenced by the ones the Alteans seem to favour, so he guesses it's in some defensive desire that Lance selected such an irregular choice. Despite this, he understands; if he can learn how to defend against them, any future battles might be easier.

Across from him, Lance's face twists as he tests the staff in his hands, morphing from excitement to some reluctant acceptance as he positions it behind him like the guards do on Empire cruisers.

It's then that it hits him.

"Lance," Kolivan starts, eyes trained on the other as stormy eyes flick up to meet him, "is Allura sending you back into deep cover?"

He hopes not, and merely suggesting it is putting spikes through his gut. The last time Lance went into deep cover within the Empire, he was discovered after a younger, less experienced blade member leaked some information to the druids. Kolivan still remembers the distress call from Keith after he asked Voltron for aid -

_"I know, we should have left him, but he's too important. To us. To you."_

Before him, Lance freezes, wide eyed and shocked as the staff nearly drops out of his hands. "I- How did you-?"

"You're standing like a guard," Kolivan points out, mouth flattening into a thin line of displeasure, "training for a role, perhaps? I thought you weren't doing this again, not after last time."

"We need it," Lance spits in reply, and he averts eye contact, but Kolivan can't tell if it's in shame or anger, "Allura said this information is 'imperative to the plan', so someone has to do it."

Kolivan rolls his eyes, feeling a protective grumble rush through his chest. "If you get caught, they won't waste time with interrogation. You'll be killed, there and then-"

"And?" It's then that Lance drops his staff, storming over with a deep, angry frown on his face and frustrated tears in his eyes. "You can't protect me forever, Kolivan. If I die, I die - I'm a Blade, I knew what I was signing up for!"

This isn't Lance.

This is some propaganda inspired Lance, urged to do 'right' for his name and company by some higher force. He always hated the policy of valuing the mission over a life, so to hear support of it slip through his lips like words off a script is deeply unnerving.

He shall have harsh words with Allura later.

"Alright then," Kolivan replies, stepping away from Lance as he spins the staff in his hand, "collect your weapon. You wanted to spar, let us spar."

They do spar. They spar until Kolivan's legs ache from holding fast against Lance's onslaught. They spar until Lance's throat is raw from war cries and screeches of pain as Kolivan throws him across the room for the umpteenth time. They spar until the staffs are dirtied and marked from scuffs and hits, and Kolivan wants to snap his over his knee in frustration.

"You're done," he says, returning the staff to a holding position behind his back as Lance scrambles up from the floor again, "you're not fit for another round. It's time to stop."

Lance just huffs, grabbing the staff again, but he can't hide the shakiness of his legs and arms from pure exhaustion. He lets the staff drop, eyes suddenly downcast, and wanders over to Kolivan to fall into his chest.

It's not often this happens, but it's not the first time he's seen this, seen Lance self-destruct so effortlessly. It usually comes at the end of a long slog, a harsh push from Allura and Keith, and honestly, he's surprised he hasn't seen this sooner. The training, the drive to be better and stronger for this mission, explains the prior exhaustion he saw on the Altean's face, and he wraps his arms tightly around the smaller body.

"Rest," he says, and feels Lance hum through his armour, "all will be clearer soon."

He reaches down, hooks one arm under Lance's knees and makes his way towards the door. He can't hear anyone coming, but if someone did see them, he was sure he could play it off.

He's fairly sure he knows where Lance's quarters are, and Lance leans in various directions if he finds he's going the wrong way. The Blade's headquarters are labyrinthine at the best of times, even worse so when your usual guide is silent in your arms; Lance has his face pressed against Kolivan's armour, dark skin contrasted against the stark white of the plating

"It's this one," Lance says suddenly, and Kolivan stops to enter into the familiar room; it's messy, but endearing, filled with trinkets and keepsakes that Lance has picked up within his time here. Kolivan moves through the floor based mess, laying Lance on the bed gently as the other man detaches himself from around Kolivan's waist.

"Are you comfortable?" He asks quietly, reaching up with one hand to run it down Lance's face. There's a shame in his eyes, one that Kolivan is now familiar with that tends to appear after conflicts such as this, and won't go away no matter how many times he confirms there's no issue.

Lance nods, averting his eyes and twisting his mouth in thought. "I'm fine," he says - lies - as he snuggles into the pillow, "sorry-"

"Don't apologise," Kolivan says, almost as if from a script, "your reaction is understandable. You put yourself under too much pressure, starlight."

Lance shrugs, and Kolivan stands to lock the door when a hand secures around his wrist. He spins around to see Lance gripping him, almost a plead in his eyes.

"Please, don't leave."

Kolivan smiles, a rare gentle quirk that he saves for Lance, and nods as the hand slackens around his wrist. "Fear not," he replies, "I'm securing the room, I shall return."

Immediately, the hand loosens around his wrist, and he knows he’s free to lock the door behind them. It locks with a hiss, and he spins on his foot to see Lance beckoning him from across the room.

“I’m sure you have time for a nap,” Lance grumbles as Kolivan clambers onto the small bed next to him. There’s just enough space to wrap Lance in his arms, pulling him flush against Kolivan’s body. Hindsight wishes he had taken the armour off before he’d gotten into the bed, but as Lance relaxed in his arms, he can’t find the energy to move once again.

Shiro might need him back later, but for now, Kolivan sleeps.

**Author's Note:**

> A brief explaination of my thought process bc idk if I made it clear and i wanna jot it down: Kolivan is the red paladin after Shiro returned to Earth and helped awaken the Blue Lion, who instead chose a still-earthbound Krolia (who went into hiding after having an Altean’s kid) as her paladin. Krolia invited fellow hiding Galrans Kolivan (Red), Ulaz (Green), and Antok (Yellow) to help her and Shiro (Black) into a pre-Empire Castle to discover Prince lotor in stasis. Lance is a half-Altean who is a member of the blade of Marmora, rebel Alteans led by former princess Allura and Galtean Keith.
> 
> That was so complicated, but have it anyway. Please don’t ask why I have a full backstory for a 2K oneshot.
> 
> Thanks for reading y’all!!!


End file.
